


No, you don't

by MistressYin



Series: Just A Word [9]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Dad Jim Hopper, Hurt Steve Harrington, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Poor Steve Harrington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 11:42:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16575782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressYin/pseuds/MistressYin
Summary: Steve has a shoulder to cry on.





	No, you don't

**Author's Note:**

> This will not make sense if you havn't read at least the first part of this series!

Steve thought back. In the short time he’d lived with the man, they hadn’t conversed much. To be honest, the only thing he really knew about him was things he’d just picked up, like his choice of music. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Jim thought of him. A trouble maker, an alcoholic, maybe something to pity because of his life. 

Jim hadn’t been much of a talkative guy on his first impression of him, and that assumption still stood. 

There was nothing wrong with that, he was just...quiet. He did have a certain intimidation to him that made Steve want to just not be around him, though. 

He liked to tell himself he wasn’t the one avoiding Jim, that Jim and him just happened to never catch alone time while living in the same house for weeks now. 

Jim gave him a charismatic smile, before lighting his cigar and sliding it into his mouth. He peeled the paper back out of his mouth and blew, causing smoke to momentarily fill the empty room. 

“How’s it going, boy?” the tone was light, but Steve didn’t care for the way he had addressed him. it was a name his father often referred to him as, like he couldn’t even be bothered to remember his own sons name. He was just some boy. 

So maybe that was what made him snap back, “Fine, thanks,” dryly, slamming his bag down with a little too much force on the table and opening it up to search for his school books. 

Outside, the stillness of the night brought forth attention to the sound of the crickets chirping minutely.

“Jeez, no need to be so touchy, what, is it your time of the month?” the chief questioned, rolling his cigarette around his tongue. 

Steve just let out an irritated hum, trying to get rid of his father’s voice morphing Hoppers teasing into something much darker. 

He opened his book, only to look up and see Hopper in front of him. “Hey, kiddo why don’t you hold off on that school and we can play a game of cards just you and me, sound fun?”

Steve rolled his eyes, closing the book to raise an eyebrow, his irritation now running high. “Look, I have to finish this, I’m a bit behind on studying.”

“Ah, come one! Don’t be such a good tooshoes! Know how to play poker?” he joked.

Steve gritted his teeth, imagining his father’s voice. ‘What, it’s not like you need to do this work. You’ll just fuck around with the teacher for the grade in the end! I heard you do that quite a lot, huh, you slut? I didn’t raise my son to be a whore, so you can’t be MY fucking kid.’

“Yes I know how to play poker. No, I’m not going to play with you.” He responded tightly.

The next thing that happened came as a blur. Hopper slammed his hand on the table loudly, “Godamnit kid, I’m trying here!”

And Steve, well, he leapt. He was off the chair with his hands above his head in record time leaning back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut to focus on the sound of his heartbeat thrumming against his chest. 

He wanted to run, run as fast as he could and never turn back. Get out, his mind was telling him. but he was frozen, ready for the onslaught of blows about to come. 

“Shit, fuck i-I’m sorry, don’t hurt...fuck I didn’t mean any dis—“ he stumbled, pushing his back against the wall. His father was coming, and going to hurt him he wasn’t going to stop he was really dead this time and now everyone would know how hard poor slutty Steve Harrington’s life was—

“Kid, I...I’m not going to hurt you.”

He froze, his toes curling. 

That didn’t sound like his dad. 

But he did not dare try to see if I it didn’t look like his dad. 

Confusion enveloped him. His dad had to be pissed off, why wasn’t he coming...?

“Alright Harrington? Yea, deep breaths. In through the nose and through the mouth. Find a pattern that suits you.”

He obeyed with stuttering breaths, teeth chattering as his breath turned ragged. When Steve opened his eyes, Hopper was staring right at him, hands on his arms. Not squeezing, just resting there hesitantly. He absently leaned into the touch. “S-sorry. These atta-acks have been a pain in my ass lately. They used to not come this often. Maxy helps me, though.”

He shivered against the cold that wasn’t there before. 

“You’ve had them before?”

Steve nodded. “Used to be really bad. They would l-l-l-last for about thirty minutes or something...” he mumbled. 

Hopper turned to look at Steve full on.  
“Do I really remind you of him?” Hopper questioned, spitting him like it was blood running through his teeth. 

Steve didn’t have the strength to lie, so he shrugged. “You, you don’t look like him. You don’t act like him. But...” he shrugged again, unable to find the words. 

 

“Why didn’t you just say something?”

 

Steve scoffed. “’Sorry I don’t want to be around you, chief, your presence gives me panic attacks.’” he mumbled, beginning to realize the uncomfortableness of the stance he was in. 

 

He let out a breath and rolled his aching neck. 

“Okay, so next time I’m freaking you out just yell bacon. You know how much Jane hates it ever since she found out about the conditions farm animals live in. She’ll come running and shouting about justice, and you’re saved from me. How about that?”

Steve let out a whimper. “B-bacon.” 

Hoppers eyes widened as he stepped back, releasing him from the grip so he could slide down the wall and breathe. 

Jim sat down with him, one leg hooked and the other straight out, an arm draped casually over his knee. 

“Okay. No touching, no loud noises. Got it, Jane doesn’t really like those things either so...”

He grinned at Steve. “We can make the rest of the rules in the morning. I can only learn. I thought I was used to taking care of traumatized children, but damn, this is only the beginning. I should write a book.”

Steve let out a startled laugh. “The chronicles of a single dad taking care of his telekinetic daughter and abused foster son. People would read it. It would sell like Jane buys eggos.” 

Their shared laughter faded. “You know kid, your really something. Whatever that asshole told you about yourself, I’d stake my life on the claim that it wasn’t even remotely true, got it? Your way better than you know.”

Steve nodded, because if he said a word, he would start bawling. The tears stung his eyes as his body shook. 

“And I also know I can be distant, but I’m really, really trying. But I can’t get anywhere if you won’t talk or tell me when I’m bothering you. Just remember, I’m never going to go beserk on you because you want to do school or want to be left alone. Just tell me straight out. I’m a grown man, I can take it.” they both laughed at this, “But at the same time, you’ve got to tell me when you want to talk. When you really feel like a shoulder to cry on could help you. Okay? I’d appreciate if I could be that shoulder.”

Steve did sob this time, his face buried into his hands. 

And as hoper moved his face into the crook of neck, Steve couldn’t help but think he had been completely wrong. 

“I don’t understand, but I don’t have to.” Hopper told him. 

“No, you don’t.” Steve agreed. 

Hopper liked him. Butterflies flew through his stomach. That was unexpected.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again from MistressYin!


End file.
